


Swatches

by revenant_oozi



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Green Lantern Corps (Comic)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Artistic Sensibilities, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:38:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenant_oozi/pseuds/revenant_oozi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Art supplies as an analogy for love isn't Guy's strong suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swatches

There were few things Kyle Rayner took more seriously than his obscure paint collection.

Each shade and finish sorted carefully in chorusline rows, every tiny tube of oil and vile of watercolor strategically placed like a chess piece, displayed idolically atop his shelves like one would prop family photos, and Guy could only ignore such a highly cherished set up for so long before he got curious as to what all the fuss was about.

Not to mention that he'd noticed some of them were actually nail-polish, but Kyle claimed they worked better on metal surfaces.

"Do you think I'm more _Green-witch Village_ or _Derbyshire_?"

Kyle looked up from the charcoal pencil he was concentrating on to squint at the frowning man lying on the floor, paint tubes scattered around him, some opened, others left untouched, "What?"

He doesn't expect a clear explanation from the man on the floor, the man who looks like a boy with a coloring book, swinging his legs idly and biting his lip in thought at the plastic tubes in his hands, about to hold two up for Kyle's inspection before thinking better of it, "Nevermind."

Kyle doesn't pretend to know whats on Guys mind even some of the time, but as long as he doesn't let paint leak all over the carpet, he'll humor him. Setting his pen down, he slides off the bed to join his friend on the floor, sitting cross-legged and picking up one of the little colorful items, "I'd say you're a _Kilkenny_ , but even I'm not sure what that is."

Guy shakes his head, either not catching the joke or just ignoring it to pursue his more serious matters, "I don't know how you keep all these sorted in that noggin o' your's..."

He replaces the small tube to the pile he's made on the carpet, leaning in once it's clear he wants to be philosophical, or something like it, and Kyle excuses himself to refill his coffee, "It's like people. Especially _our_ kinda people. They're all different colors and most of them have weird names, but you just keep them straight in your head automatically after a while."

Shrugging, Guy mutters a, "Guess so..." holding one up, popping off the cap and bringing it close enough to his face that he nearly goes cross-eyed. He thinks of when he'd first gotten to Kyle, really _gotten him_ , it was like this, Kyle was a _Honeymoon Heather_ through an through. They'd just moved off-planet together, and Guy had taken it as a small victory, and made it worth both their whiles. Glancing at the almost comically undersized label, he nods that indeed, the shade's title fits, moving on to the next and trying to convince himself Kyle has a point in all this.

Recapping the lid, he picks up another, frowning for whatever powers of subliminal messaging the paint holds with this too ladylike name of _Misty Lilac_. The 'new life, new love' phase was done, things settled down, but just as quickly it triggers the memory of Kyle being physically dragged out of Parallax. Kyle had cried alot after that. Misty seemed to fit.

Kyle sits down with his cowboy coffee mug, poking at a container as Guy locates another to make a point of, a bright red metallic, and his mind starts an automatic string of how he thought maybe _Spoiled in Rubies_ would get them back to _Nude Satin_ , but all Kyle'd use was _Icicle_.

Guy wonders when he became so damn dependent on personal analogies with art supplies to express his frustrations, but maybe thats what being in Kyle's head was like.

He sighs, carefully replacing the item like the treasured chess-piece Kyle saw it as, another beloved child in the strange dollhouse of his conscious, propping himself on his elbows defeated, looking at the assortment like it's draining the very color out of him, "I jus' don't know you pick the right one when you got a whole army of 'em."

Kyle thinks over it, absently stacking them like Lincoln Logs to build an unstable little fort as he tries to come up with an answer for his friend's silent but disjointed troubles.

As the structure collapses, he looks up at Guy without a solution thats good enough, as long as he's keeping his real questions to himself. Picking one up from the destroyed building, he holds it out to his friend with a little smile, "I think _Emphatic_ works for you."

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something so much better than this, but it just never happened.


End file.
